


Dive

by MoreHeartLessAttack



Series: Jake Peralta Has ADHD [2]
Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy Santiago Loves Jake Peralta, Amy is v good at this whole reassurance thing, F/M, Jake Has Daddy Issues, Jake Peralta has ADHD, he is a sweet boi and I love him, jake fears rejection, they love each other so much I'm gonna cry, two sweet bbys in love, xtreme fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-25
Updated: 2018-08-25
Packaged: 2019-07-02 13:35:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15797592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/MoreHeartLessAttack/pseuds/MoreHeartLessAttack
Summary: Jake was definitely the clingy one in their relationship. Amy had absolutely zero complaints.





	Dive

**Author's Note:**

> "Terry loves love!" me too terry!! me too!!!!
> 
> This one ain't as heavy on the ADHD aspect, there's just a hint of his rejection sensitivity (RSD) but that's okay because the team still doesn't know about diagnosis and they gotta find out eventually, right? Like...maybe in the next story??? Hmmmm
> 
> Anyway two of my friends just got engaged and my heart is a big ol puddle of mush right now so you get a fluffy love fic. Enjoy!

_**I could fall, or I could fly, here in your aeroplane** _

_**And I could live, I could die, hanging on the words you say** _

_**And I've been known to give my all, and jumping in** _

_**Harder than ten thousand rocks on the lake** _

_**So don't call me baby unless you mean it** _

_**And don't tell me you need me if you don't believe it** _

_**So let me know the truth** _

_**Before I dive right into you** _

**"Dive" - Ed Sheeran**

* * *

If there was anything Amy was feeling in that moment, it was the exact opposite of hesitance. Jake shifted in his sleep, sighing softly against her skin, and all she could think was that this was anything _but_ a turn-off.

On the contrary, running her fingers through her sleeping boyfriend's hair while he latched onto her, his hands closed in tight fists around her nightgown, legs entangled in hers, head resting on her chest, Amy felt an absolute tsunami of _love_ for this man crash over her. He was strong and brave enough to make her knees weak, but loving and trusting enough to make her feel important and strong. She relied on him. He relied on her with an equal fervor. The balance came so naturally to them that Amy kicked herself for not realizing years ago how well they fit together, like puzzle pieces falling into place.

But all that about balance being said - Jake was _definitely_ the clingy one in this relationship.

He fell asleep either curled against her like this or holding her tightly in his own arms nearly every night they shared a bed. He liked to play with her hair, to have his hair played with, to feel his own heart beating against hers. He held her hand under the desk when they worked a case together and beamed in pure joy when she pressed a discreet kiss to his cheek before either of them left the precinct. Jake was handsy in the best way. Amy was more than willing to oblige.

It made her ache to think of the way Jake used to see, maybe sometimes still saw, these moments: as his own weakness. Like he was admitting defeat by letting somebody love him.

But Amy didn't need Jake's permission to be in love with him and, God, she _loved_ hearing him happily sigh her name in his sleep as he nuzzled his nose into her neck. She loved the way she could physically feel his body relaxing against hers when they sat in front of the TV together after work and she gently worked her fingers through his hair. He trusted her. He felt comfortable around her. Nothing could make her heart warmer or fuller than knowing the man she loved and respected reciprocated those feelings.

Amy had never seen his snuggly nature as a weakness. She thought it was endearing.

She remembered the first few weeks of their relationship, after they decided to screw light and breezy and dive in headfirst the way they both knew they wanted to. Amy noticed the way he began to lean in when she absentmindedly rubbed his back, his hair, her thumb across his knuckles - and then abruptly stopped himself every time, tensing, and maintained a comfortable distance for the rest of the time they sat or laid together. It was insanely frustrating.

But after so many nights of lying awake long after he passed out, watching the stress lines on his face disappear as she soothed them away with her fingertips, it began to dawn on her that her boyfriend wasn't being distant or cold in these moments.

He was protecting himself.

Jake had daddy issues. Everyone knew that. He wasn't exactly secretive about it. But one day, the realization hit Amy like a truck: he didn't just have daddy issues. He had abandonment issues in general.

Jake was scared of being rejected, and it was safer to not get close to anybody lest it end in heartbreak. If he got too close to Amy, a breakup would devastate him. He'd started to slip that way just before Perez dumped him. Luckily, that ended before Jake found himself too far down the rabbit hole.

With this revelation in mind, Amy made it her own secret relationship goal to take down Jake's walls. Not by breaking them, but by gently dissembling each brick, one at a time, until there was nothing separating him from being real and honest with her.

She'd even gone so far one day as to verbalize her feelings on the matter. Her heart was racing and her hands were shaking with anxiety the entire time, but she did it.

"Hey," she'd said on a drive from the precinct to his apartment, the blinding sunset a cheesy yet somehow perfect backdrop. "Can I ask you something?"

"You just did," he grinned widely at her. It was a long-dead joke and Amy rolled her eyes, but she was smiling right along with him. His goofiness, too, was endearing. She needed more of that in her life. He was a beacon of lightheartedness.

"I just wanted to make sure you knew..." she said slowly. Jake raised a single eyebrow, smile faltering only slightly. "I really love being with you. And cuddling with you. And just...I _like_ being in physical contact with you, you know? No sex tape jokes!"

Jake closed his mouth as quickly as he'd opened it, clearly fighting back laughter.

His smile slipped into something more neutral, but not necessarily bad, as she continued, "I like that you like being close to me. That makes me happy, and I don't want you to hold back because you're worried that it doesn't, okay?"

He'd nodded slowly, and Amy knew he was trying to fully register the significance of her words. She gave him silence, waiting patiently for a response.

"Thank you," he said after a minute. "That's...I do. Like being close to you. I'm glad you like that, too. That's good."

Somehow, the subject of conversation was changed to Die Hard within sixty seconds. Amy humored him, as usual. The sparkle in his eyes made her feel something that felt exactly like falling in love. 

Jake was a man true to his word. He didn't lean away or tense up that night when Amy wordlessly invited him to lay his head in her lap as they sat watching Netflix. He wholeheartedly responded to her, sighing contentedly, muscles tense from a busy workday relaxing under her hands. Amy had no doubt that when she needed similar comfort, Jake would be at her side in an instant.

They lived like two gears spinning in perfect sync, and Amy loved every second of it.

Now, listening to his steady breathing and watching his eyes flutter beneath their lids, she fought back the lump of emotion rising in her throat. Six months later, he showed no qualms about wrapping his arms around her waist and pressing a kiss to the crown of her head in front of their coworkers-slash-friends on a Saturday night out. He flashed that full-mouthed, dazzling grin at her when she scratched at the tiny hairs on the nape of his neck and told him she loved him.

He fell asleep like this after he had a particularly exhausting day, or had endured sixteen hours of stress and overwhelm because he forgot his meds that morning, or even if he just wasn't feeling well. It had become second nature to let himself be held and trust Amy not to let him go. She trusted him to return the favor.

God, she loved him so freaking much. Sometimes she really felt like her heart was going to explode (maybe his overdramatic nature was rubbing off on her a bit, but it was the truth).

Amy pressed her lips to the tip of his nose, the center of his forehead, the crest under his eye, the sharp angle of his jawline. She only stopped when his eyelashes fluttered against his cheeks and he shifted his torso against her. By her calculations, he'd been awake for nearly thirty-six hours. The beloved murder he'd been so hyperfocused on ("he was stabbed with a crab claw, Amy! A _crab claw_!") was finally solved and shut, and he needed his sleep. He had to be well-rested and alert enough to start in on another case at nine A.M sharp. So did she, for that matter.

"Amy," he murmured against her skin as she tucked the covers in tighter around the two of them. Her heart melted into a puddle of goo the way it did every time. She would never get used to having the privilege of being Jake Peralta's one and only. Jake tended to see their relationship as Amy way downgrading herself. She would fight him on that to her grave if she had to.

"Goodnight," she whispered in response. Amy wrapped her arms around his shoulders and pressed her cheek against his hair. She let herself feel the tiredness she'd been fighting, and slept.

(So maybe they were _both_ a little clingy. Jake was learning to be okay with that, and Amy would never complain.) 


End file.
